Things I don’t appreciate, Part II

Oh, oh, you have a backlit picture of wheat on your blog? PISS OFF. I’m not gonna wait around to find out if there’s an autoplay of devotional piano music that speeds up and slows down emotionally to illustrate the movements of the soul, which is apparently set to “achingly quivering” 24/7, because of course there is.

Say, you brought your dog to the beach even though it says no dogs allowed, because your dog is different from other dogs, and only needs a little practice around kids? HEY THAT’S SWELL. You are doing life right, Ace! Yeah, take that sucker off his leash! I had an extra ten minutes in my life that weren’t already filled with anxiety and rage, so thanks for taking care of that for me.

Could you respond to my essay by quoting the exact same paragraph I quoted in the essay, but somehow telling yourself that you’re making a devastating point that eluded me because I’m a moron? Couldja do that? YOU CAN? Oh, my luck is just through the roof today.

Hey, maybe my husband can work late to find out what the Native Americans have to say about a proposal to run power lines through 180 miles of wilderness! I certainly wonder what their take on it will be, I certainly do. Reading about it will be much better than actually finding out what my husband’s face looks like in daylight.

I want to go to my grave without knowing who Antonio Sparado is, and you assholes won’t let me.

Who’s the fucking moron who accidentally installed some kind of useless, bogus encrypted search engine on my computer, so every time I search for something, big brother won’t be able to track it, but on the other hand it only turns up super useful results like “70% off Ann Voskamp – Best Price Ann Voskamp – Buy Now?” Oh, it was me? And I get to be in charge of keeping ten human beings alive, too? THAT MAKES SENSE.

You know, Joan Jett did a cover of “You Don’t Own Me,” and it should have been awesome, but it wasn’t. It was terrible.

Good, yes, I would like the air I breathe to be more fruit fly than oxygen. I am ever so grateful, especially when I get to sponge rotten potato juice off the wire shelving I thought it wise to keep my potatoes on in the heat.

People who run several times a week should eventually get better at running, but it turns out sometimes they don’t. They just get stains on their stupid bright orange shirts, and who would buy another shirt for someone who’s so crappy at running? NOT ME.

Benedict Cumberbatch isn’t remotely attractive, and you know it. Hoo-ray, so he’s tall. Lots of people are tall. The produce guy is extremely tall, and you don’t catch me all, “ooh, ooh, he should be in a TV show, ooh, he should be in a movie.” George the Animal Steele was six foot one, all right? I guess it’s nice you feel sorry for people who weren’t born with enough skin to cover their whole entire faces, but there’s no need to pretend this is an attractive man.

sa·pi·o·sex·u·al
ˌsāpēōˈsekSH(o͞o)əl/
adjective
1.
(of a person) finding intelligence sexually attractive or arousing.
“I met a PhD student from Germany who told me that he was sapiosexual”
noun
1.
a person who finds intelligence sexually attractive or arousing.
“I’m a sapiosexual and I like to talk”

I have particular sympathy for the Joan Jett item. I’m a Yes fan, but I ranted for weeks about the head-shaking disappointment that is their cover of Simon & Garfunkel’s “America”. It SHOULD have been awesome, but NO.

DOGS. I could write an entire essay on Dog Things I Do Not Appreciate, and I know dog people will jump all over me (ha, see what i did there) and say it’s not the DOGS I don’t like, but the OWNERS. That said, I really really don’t appreciate when somebody has their dang mutt on a leash that’s so long that it can lunge towards my kids and the owner stands there with either a) a blank expression on their face, or b) say chirpily, “Oh! He doesn’t bite!”

Newsflash, that is a logical fallacy. Perhaps your dog HASN’T bitten anybody yet. Perhaps your dog has never been spooked or bothered by a small child, and reverted to his ancient buried wolf DNA, and that’s dandy. But you can’t honestly say that, down the echoing corridors of time, that he WILL NEVER bite. Animals are inherently unpredictable. I once had a fluffy cat that seemed to just adore having small children rub his tummy, oh yes he did, so I thought, “Oh! My cat never scratches/bites kids.” Guess what happens when a toddler tries to nuzzle a sleeping cat’s fluffy tummy? An ER trip, that’s what. Be ye not so stupid. Keep your danged dog on a short leash, thankyouverymuch.

Also, can dog owners stop driving with their dogs on their laps? You look stupid when you do that.

Benedict Cumberbatch (or as we call him in our household, “Eggs Benedict Cummerbund” is a very good actor, and we really liked Doctor Strange, but LORD ALL MIGHTY he did a weird V-shaped smile in Star Trek: Into Darkness and I cannot. watch. that. movie. again because no human’s mouth should be able to make that shape.